Loose Lips Sink Ships
by Emmeebee
Summary: 'The fact that you have so easily and fully accepted Madam Umbridge is pleasing and a wonderful sign of the lady that you are becoming.' A glowing letter from her mother leads to Marietta re-evaluating her involvement with the D.A. and thinking about whether or not she personally believes that Voldemort has returned.


Marietta flipped her textbook shut as she finally gave up on finishing her essay before Cho got back. It seemed to her as if the sentences had lost all semantic value; individual words and phrases made sense, but they didn't string together to make up any semblance of a meaningful whole. She supposed that she had to face her mother's most recent letter head-on before she had any hope of getting herself out from its shadow and having a productive afternoon.

_I am so proud of you, my dear, _her mother had written. _I am aware that some of your peers have responded atrociously to the appointment of my dear acquaintance and colleague to the esteemed position of High Inquisitor. Madam Umbridge is doing much to change past issues and that will never sit well with everyone. Change is never easy, after all, whereas blindly following tradition is. Their reticence to accept change is therefore understandable but is frankly a sign of serious immaturity. I am loathe to use such a word when referring to heirs and heiresses of noble and ancient houses, but it must be said. I only hope that this year will make them see the errors of their ways and take the steps required to become more open minded and fit for their coming positions. The fact that you have so easily and fully accepted Madam Umbridge is pleasing and a wonderful sign of the lady that you are becoming. Our actions should never be solely for the commendation of others, but in light of the actions of your peers I feel that it is necessary to ensure that you are aware how proud I am of you and how I hope you will continue to have the strength to follow your chosen path regardless of the lies and rumours that you may hear some of your friends spreading. Do not let them sink their poisonous claws into your bright young mind. Claws can be hard to pry free, especially when they have been embedded so long that you no longer notice them. One must act quickly to remove any such negative hold. The sign of a true academic is the ability to listen to what is being said and work out the truth for oneself. On a personal note, it is also imperative for a woman to be able to tell when she is being lied to. It is a quality most respected by the noble houses and one that you should continue to cultivate. Your father and I have been in discussion with Edgar and Ophelia Crouch regarding us spending some time at their house over the upcoming holidays. Their nephew Julius will be visiting while we are there. We all think that it would be a marvellous idea for you to make one another's acquaintance. You are so very alike and we are sure that you would enjoy conversing with one another._

Marietta could recite most of the letter from the top of her head. She briefly entertained the thought of how she would have felt if she _had _been doing what her mother thought she was – proud, naturally, and excited at the prospect of meeting Julius Crouch. After a brief discussion a few months prior in which Marietta had admitted that she had found the older boy attractive when he was at Hogwarts but had never really had the chance to speak to him, her parents had decided to go through the official channels to arrange a meeting. Although they had raised Marietta with the intention of her being a suitable addition to such a family, believing it to be the best indicator of poise and intelligence, they had never actually expected her to marry into an ancient or noble family. Julius, however, was low enough on the list of inheritance that he would be allowed a much broader choice over whom he would marry. While they were forward thinking enough to not push Marietta on the matter, they clearly hoped that she would be his choice once she had finished school.

But all of that hardly mattered now. Evelyn Edgecombe's praise, and the holiday invitation, were all centred on the belief that Marietta was toeing the line at school and following the Ministry's decrees. It pained her to hear her mother express her faith in her strength and perseverance in her when she was doing the exact opposite of what she thought she was doing. Marietta hadn't ever lied to her about it, not technically, just said that she liked Umbridge's lessons, was doing well and occasionally met up with one or another of her friends to practice some of her practical subjects. She'd made sure she neither gave away what she was doing nor expressly said that she wasn't doing it. Still, she didn't suppose that her mother would care much about debating the distinction between lying and omitting relevant facts. It came down to the same thing in any case: the Ministry wanted students to follow Umbridge, her mother worked at the Ministry, Marietta was expected to follow Umbridge, Marietta wasn't, and she was keeping it from her parents. It wouldn't matter that Marietta wasn't personally opposed to Umbridge, or that she'd only joined the stupid group in the first place because Cho thought it'd help her deal with everything surrounding Cedric's death, or that she only stayed because she was concerned that Cho would forget herself around Potter and further hurt herself. Rebellion wasn't her intention, but it was part of the unwritten dogma of the group and, innocent intentions or not, that would be all that her mother would see. It would likely also be all that Julius would see, not that she was too concerned with the outcome of that suit – it would just not bode well if it fell through due to a fault of hers rather than a preference of either of theirs.

Marietta flopped back on her bed, her arms protecting her eyes from the glare of the candles. She couldn't keep this deceit up. She could just stop going. Cho had settled into D.A. by now and could continue without her. The girl mightn't have any other friends there, but that Corner kid was nice enough and it wasn't like the girls got much of a chance to talk while Cho was mooning over Potter. If she stopped going, she wouldn't ever have to tell her parents about it. If they ever found out on their own, she could deny all and any culpability. She could say that she went to that first meeting, back before it was illicit, and perhaps even that she had gone along to the first session to comfort Cho. It was still impermissible, but much less damaging to the family name.

_Except for that parchment I signed. If they ever get their hands on that, I'm gone._

It was time to think about it all logically. Marietta hadn't done much of that over the past year, too concerned with prioritising whatever was best for Cho's emotional wellbeing to think rationally about the bigger picture.

At the end of last year, after Potter came back with Cedric's body, the Headmaster had made a speech about doing what was right regardless of what it cost you. Her mother had alluded to that notion in her letter too, saying that following tradition is easy but accepting change is necessary. However, there wasn't a clear, coherent notion of what right constituted in this situation. She knew that her mother thought it was right to follow and wrong to rebel, but Cho and the rest of the D.A. thought it was the other way around. Her mother was much more experienced than Cho and much less likely to be misguided by lies. Still, Potter, clueless as he was about anything political, _had _been the last one to see Cedric alive, or the first to see him dead, or whatever it was. Her mother was better positioned than Cho, but then Potter was better positioned than Umbridge.

But at the end of the day, if she were to be an academic, or to marry a member of a noble or ancient house, she would have to be able to pull out any claws that were entrenched in her brain and decide for herself. She couldn't base it on what her mother or her best friend thought on the matter. It had to be what she thought._ But what do I think?_

The case for You Know Who being back hinged on Dumbledore and Harry's word. Technically, the only evidence was Harry, but Dumbledore was a good enough Legilimens to be able to tell when he was being lied to. Add to that the fact that Potter was horrible enough at the political side of things that he wouldn't have had the basic Occlumency training that all members of noble houses went through, and it was safe to say that Dumbledore knew exactly what had happened in that maze.

_Really, _she thought, _it comes down to whether or not I trust Dumbledore's word on the matter._

The issue was that he had previously made some decisions regarding the school that she thought was definitely _not _in the students' best interests. Everyone had heard the rumours about some stone in her second year and knew that Professor Quirrell had tried to kill Potter due to lingering hatred and support of a master long since brought to ruin. Still, Dumbledore had never made any sort of official statement about it, and _surely _he had read the man's mind and known that something was afoot earlier in the year. She didn't know exactly what happened with the Chamber of Secrets the following year, but that alone attested to the fact that he hadn't kept his students well informed of the danger. And _everybody _knew that the groundskeeper regularly brought in dangerous creatures that were then snuck away. There was even a game of sorts in which students kept their eye out to see which creature it was that year; the first person who found out, and had proof to back up their claims, won and received temporary glory.

_So he covers things up to achieve his desired ends, _the Ravenclaw thought, subconsciously twirling a strand of hair around her finger in an attempt to release some of her nervous energy. _He's good at manipulating facts. That's not a bad thing in and of itself, but it means he wouldn't have any qualms about hiding what actually happened in the maze if it didn't suit him. But does that mean that he would lie about it, too? Would he make up something that didn't happen?_

Harry Potter was the Headmaster's favourite pupil, everybody knew that. His myriad of duties had never given him much time for individual or personalised interaction with the students and he tended to view them with a kind of affectionate amusement, almost as if they were small and peculiarly extraordinary little children, when he did do so. The Headmaster's affection for the Boy Who Lived, however, was evident. It was only to be expected, she supposed; there was only one Boy Who Lived and everybody was thankful for what he did. The fact remained, however, that he wouldn't want the Gryffindor to be portrayed in a negative light by the media. The story that Potter had come across Cedric's body in the maze or that there had been a duel for the Cup that had gone awry would not bode well for the boy. While it would have been deemed perfectly legitimate and been pardoned under Tournament rules, it was not something that his fellow students or future business partners would take lightly if there were ever any hint that it hadn't been strictly necessary to actually _kill _him – especially given that all signs pointed to it having been by the Killing Curse.

So that was his motive for lying.

_He's got the trifecta – means, motive, opportunity. He could have lied. He would have lied. But did he?_

The prospect that You Know Who was back was preposterous.

A knock at the door drew her attention from her thoughts. "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal Cho. She slipped through and closed the door behind her, casting a muffling charm as she did so. "Marietta? Are you ready? I thought we might head over early."

"I'm not feeling too well. I thought I'd just stay here."

"It's not flu season," Cho said, frowning. "Do you think you're coming down with something?"

"I don't think it's anything too serious, I just doubt I'd be able to concentrate enough to cast anything. It's kind of pointless if I can't even do that, then, isn't it?"

"Not really," Cho wavered. "You could come to talk to people, fortify yourself for more of those dreadful classes, that kind of thing."

Marietta rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you could do that, but you know I don't know anyone else. Besides, I actually like DADA this year. We may not be learning anything practical, but it'll give us a solid theoretical basis for the NEWTs and we'll have a new professor by next year anyway."

"Marietta – "

"I go for you, Cho. Not for me."

"Thank you for that," her friend murmured. "I know I've been all over the place recently, but things have just been so hard with Cedric…"

"I know. It's not your fault; it's okay to mourn."

"I should leave. I'll be late otherwise."

"Cho, are you going for support or because you don't like Umbridge?"

The girl hesitated, considering the question carefully. "Both, of course. I don't know to what degree of each…seeing Harry and having that support is definitely appealing, but the fact that the Ministry is just pretending that everything is peachy when You Know Who k-killedCedric is absolutely _horrid_. So a little of each, I'd say."

"Be careful around Harry. He's not…he's not that aware of things, is he? I mean, I get his life is consuming, I'm not judging him, I just don't know whether he'd be able to really…give you the support you need. He'd want to if he knew and could, but I don't think he'd even know you needed it or what to do if he did."

"I like him."

"I know. But sometimes you have to say things that your friends don't want to hear because it's in their best interests, you know? Because it'll hurt them more if you don't and the worst case scenario happens."

"Yeah, alright, whatever. I'm going to head over early. If the others ask where I am, say I've gone to study somewhere quiet."

* * *

><p>"Come in!" The high-pitched trill was sugary to the point of being sickening, but it didn't deter the Ravenclaw, now staunch in her decision. She entered the High Inquisitor's office, noting all of the decorative plates hung up around the room. It was too pink and frilly for her style, but it felt quaint and pretty and individual and Marietta liked the sense of unapologetic self-expression. It was the kind of place you could go to play with dolls and have a mock tea party and forget the fact that most people your age don't do that anymore. The stark evidence that the professor was comfortable being herself in that environment seemed to invite the same of Marietta. "Oh, Miss Edgecombe. It is wonderful to see you, my dear. I was wondering when you'd drop in for a nice little chat. Is school treating you well?"<p>

"It is. I always have loved learning. I'm here about something a bit more specific, though, Professor."

The curiosity and interest, as if the professor had begun to suspect what might be coming, was evident in the woman's eyes. It was a little presumptuous of her, but then again Marietta didn't suppose that students often came in for a chat, regardless of how well connected their parents were. "Yes?"

"Well, Professor, I need to report an incident of rule-breaking. A friend of mine wanted to come with me today too, but it would have aroused suspicion if she hadn't shown up there. She's been feeling really emotional lately and thought that it would help her work through everything but we've since realised exactly how wrong it was. We're both incredibly sorry for breaking the rules, Professor."

"It's alright, dear. It was wrong of you to do whatever this transgression was, but the fact that you – and your friend – have identified that and are coming to me about it now is brave and upstanding of both of you. I assure you that neither of you will get in trouble for your deeds unless they have endangered other students."

"Harry Potter has been running a practical defence club for the past six months."

A triumphant smile spread across her professor's face and for a moment Marietta wondered whether she had made the wrong choice after all. Her second thoughts, thought too late, were cut short as something entirely different stole her attention. Suddenly, Marietta's face felt strange and tingly, as if things were growing out of her skin, and her professor's smile was slipping and being replaced by a look of utter repulsion and horror, and Marietta was clutching at the bumps that were now scattered across her face and she didn't know what was going on or why her professor wasn't doing anything about it, but something was happening and she knew that she wasn't going to like it one bit.


End file.
